


A Light In the Dark

by starryreys



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, jews of color! in space!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryreys/pseuds/starryreys
Summary: He’s tempted to call Hera to come help, she’s always been good at this sort of stuff, but another voice in his head tells him (with a little hint of pride) that Ezra is his Padawan, that it’s his job to help him sort through his emotions as his own Master would have done for him.--(Ezra is missing his parents during the holiday season, so the fam celebrates Space Hanukkah together.)
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus, Space Family (Star Wars Rebels)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	A Light In the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> All the credit to the lovely katierosefun on tumblr for giving me the idea to write a fic about space hanukkah in this post: www.tumblr.com/blog/view/katierosefun/637360434161270784
> 
> Happy Hanukkah everyone!

Something was wrong with Ezra.

Kanan was sure, though Ezra hadn’t said anything to anyone. Ezra probably thought he’d been hiding it from everyone well enough, but Kanan had exchanged a worried glance with Hera the night before, as Ezra poked at his dinner, the corners of his mouth seeming to be perpetually turned down the past few days.

But he didn’t have to see Ezra’s face to know that something was up. The kid had been radiating unhappiness in the force without even realizing it, a kind of pain and loss that felt so keenly _sad_ , and Kanan couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. 

Hera had told him to stop worrying, that Ezra would come to him on his own when he was ready. But it had been almost a week and still nothing. 

He decides it’s time for an intervention.

He’s standing in the main hold of the Ghost, watching as Ezra lingers after breakfast, turning down Sabine’s offer to go take their blasters outside for target practice together. Sabine catches Kanan’s eye and shrugs, but lingers in the doorway for a minute. He gives her a little pointed tilt of his head at Ezra, indicating that he’ll take care of it, and she nods and turns to leave.

He sees Ezra look around, checking to see if he’s alone before slumping down into the booth, staring glumly down at the table.

Kanan moves from his position leaning against the wall and walks over to Ezra, who gives a little jump when he sees Kanan still in the room, before looking back down to the table. “Alright Ezra, what’s up?” he says, sliding in to sit down next to him. Ezra doesn’t even look at him. 

“Nothing, I’m _fine_.” 

Uh oh, he recognizes that tone. “Yeah, you look fine,” he says, nudging Ezra’s shoulder ever so slightly with his own. Ezra does look up at him then. It’s a mix between a glare and a pout and Kanan has to work to keep from cracking a smile. He could hold up a mirror to his fifteen year old self, giving Master Billaba that look and it’d be identical to Ezra’s face now. “Come on, talk to me.” Getting Ezra to talk has always been like pulling teeth from a womp rat, but he can’t blame the kid. He’d been on his own for a long time, and Kanan knows all too well what that’s like. 

“It’s just...it’s this time of year,” Ezra says in a small voice.

Kanan frowns, quickly running through the dates in his head. It’s nowhere near Empire Day. He can’t think of anything else specifically bad that’s happened during this time. But there’s an acute misery on Ezra’s face that’s clearly coming from somewhere. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific,” he says, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible. 

“I don’t know,” Ezra mumbles, then puts head down on the table, burying his face in his arms.

Kanan tries to wipe the surprise from his face, though he knows Ezra can’t see it right now. Whatever’s got the kid down, it must be worse than Kanan thought. His hand instinctively comes up to hover over Ezra’s back before he thinks better of it and puts it back down on the table. “Ezra-”

“This time of year makes me miss my parents,” Ezra cuts him off suddenly, his voice coming out muffled from under his arms.

His parents?

Kanan does put his hand on Ezra’s back then. He’s tempted to call Hera to come help, she’s always been good at this sort of stuff, but another voice in his head tells him (with a little hint of pride) that Ezra is _his_ Padawan, that it’s his job to help him sort through his emotions as his own Master would have done for him. “Hey, come on,” he says gently, moving his hand up to tussle Ezra’s hair. “What about this time of year has you missing your parents?”

Ezra lifts his head up but keeps his chin resting on his arms, staring straight ahead with the same unhappy look on his face. “It’s nothing, it's just...my family used to celebrate this holiday every year during the winter on Lothal. It was really important to us and I miss it.” He stops, sighs, “I miss _them_.” 

Okay, now they’re getting somewhere. He moves his hand comfortingly over Ezra’s back, trying to encourage him to continue, “A holiday, huh? What kind of holiday?” 

“It was called the Light Festival. We’d light candles every night, for eight days, and put them in the window of our home. It was always really nice to have that light, in the middle of winter when it was cold and dark.” There’s a spark in Ezra’s eyes that wasn’t there before as he continues, “We’d harvest daro roots a few days before and then cook them into pancakes. My dad made the best daro root pancakes you’d ever taste.”

“That sounds like a really special time,” Kanan says, smiling at him.

“It _was._ ” There’s a smile on Ezra’s face now, a liveliness as he talks. “My parents told me it was a celebration of our ancestors who survived despite the odds. It always made me feel like we could continue to make it through everything, even though bad things were happening outside. But really...it was just nice to celebrate with each other.”

The smile fades from Ezra’s face. “I haven’t celebrated it in years, but I’d always hoped that maybe one day I’d get to, with my family again. But now…” 

He cuts off, all the happiness draining from his face. He doesn’t have to say it, Kanan knows. It’s the first year that he’s known for sure his parents were dead. That he’d never get to be with them again. He doesn’t hesitate to reach his arm around Ezra’s shoulder, pulling the kid tightly against him.

“It’s fine, Kanan, it’s just a holiday. I just, I wish…”

“I know,” Kanan says, his throat tight. 

Kanan thinks about everything that he had lost along with the Jedi. The culture, the traditions, the _home_ , that he continued to grieve year after year. He wraps his arm more tightly around Ezra’s shoulder, pulling him closer against him. 

They sit like that for a while.

Later that day, he catches Hera in the hallway and pulls her aside. “Hera,” he says, glancing around to make sure Ezra won’t overhear them, “I’m going to need your help with something.”  
  


Ezra’s lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. There’s a sort of emptiness gripping at his chest, a sort of pain that makes him feel hollow. He knows it’ll pass, it always does. But it almost feels like the first year his parents had disappeared. The stinging newness of that pain had dulled out over time, but the newfound knowledge that his parents were dead had made it all fresh again, like ripping open an old wound. He thinks maybe he’ll just try to sleep it off when he hears Kanan’s voice from the hallway coming into his room. 

“Hey, Ezra,” he says knocking on his door before pushing it open and stepping inside. “Come on out, we have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” he asks, confused, sitting up to look at Kanan.

Kanan waves an arm at him. “Come on.” 

“Should I be worried?” Ezra asks, raising an eyebrow at him as he climbs out of his bunk.

Kanan shrugs, though there’s a mischievous glint in his eye that Ezra doesn’t like. “Just a little.” 

Ezra shakes his head, wondering what Kanan could possibly be planning as he leads Ezra back to the lounge area in the main hold of the ship. He stops outside the door and lets Ezra step in front of him. Ezra pauses, hearing voices talking in excited whispers, seeing the light spilling in from the room to the hallway, and Kanan gives him a little shove inside. 

His eyes adjust to the light as he steps into the room and he sees Hera, Sabine, and Chop standing around the table. A weird assortment of junk sits on top of the table, and there's a strange smell drifting from the kitchen on the other side of the room.

“What...what’s all this?”

“Happy Light Festival!” Hera says, gesturing to the jumble of items. 

“Happy…?” Bewildered, Ezra steps closer to the table to take a look. He sees that the items are actually an array of lights lined up in a row. He recognizes a small lamp Sabine uses for painting under the dim ship lights, Zeb’s two glowrods, a couple small candles he thinks maybe belong to Hera, a loose wired halo lamp that they must have unscrewed from the cockpit. And on the end, Kanan’s lightsaber propped up and ignited on the table.

Realization hits him, “You set this up...for me?” he asks. There’s a strange prickle behind his eyes and he blinks a couple times. 

“Well, it was Kanan’s idea but we all pitched in some stuff. We wanted to-oh no,” Hera groans, whipping around towards the Ghost’s tiny kitchen where black smoke is wafting out the door.

“Sorry, sorry!” Zeb says, coming out the door and fanning the smoke with his hands.

Ezra walks over to the kitchen and peaks in, waving his hand in front of him to blow the smoke out of his eyes. There’s two greenish brown lumps on the pan on the stove.

“Uh, Zeb?” Ezra asks, pointing to the pan. “What _is_ that?” 

“Well I was trying to make a version of the duro root pancakes Kanan was telling us about. But we only had topatos and they don’t really cook into anything but a stew.” 

Ezra looks from the burnt topatos on the stove, to the bizarre collection of lights on the table, to Hera, Sabine, Zeb, Kanan, and Chopper all looking at him expectantly. 

He throws his head back and starts laughing

“What?” Zeb asks, sounding panicked, “What, did we get it wrong?”

“No,” Ezra wipes his eyes, still chuckling. “No it’s perfect, it’s better than perfect. _Thank you_ ,” he says earnestly. “Really, it means a lot.” He turns to meet Kanan’s eye, and Kanan gives him a smile as bright as the lights shining up at them.

“Sorry we could only find seven lights,” he says, gesturing to the table and shrugging apologetically. 

Ezra grins, “Wait here,” he says, turning and running back to his room. He pulls his lightsaber off his bed and heads back to the main hold, where he props it up on the other side of the table across Kanan’s, and ignites the blue light.

They all step back, admiring the glow of the lights in the quiet of the room, still hazy from the smoke wafting out of the kitchen.

“I know it’s not the same,” Kanan says, “But we wanted you to know that even though you can’t celebrate with your parents, we’re always going to be here for you. Even if it’s in hastily cobbled together, burnt pancake, form.” 

“I think cobbled together fits us pretty good, actually,” Ezra says with a chuckle. “Besides I already have the only thing I really need to make this holiday perfect.” 

“What’s that?” Kanan asks, looking at him with a puzzled expression. 

“A family to celebrate it with.”

Surprise crosses Kanan’s face, before he ducks his head, not quite concealing the smile that stretches across his face. Hera puts a hand softly on Ezra’s shoulder. He turns around and wraps his arms around both of them.

Hera laughs, “Alright, everyone get in here, that’s an order!”

Zeb reaches out and wraps his arms around all three of them. Sabine rolls her eyes but joins with a smile, standing next to Ezra and putting an arm over his and Hera’s shoulders. Chopper rolls into the middle, reaching his mechanical arms up to touch Ezra and Kanan’s waists. 

He can feel the love radiating from all of them in the force, and it’s like a light glowing inside of him, warmer and brighter than any darkness he’d been feeling in the days before.

“Let’s make this a yearly tradition,” Zeb says, patting them on the back.

“No more burnt topato pancakes though,” Sabine groans. 

“That, I can agree with,” Zeb replies, and Ezra laughs, wrapping his arms more tightly around his chosen family. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to refer to Space Hanukkah as The Festival of Lights but I remembered there's already an actual holiday on Naboo called The Festival of Light so I had to change it a little. I definitely headcanon Ezra as being Jewish (or the Star Wars equivalent of Jewish) since he has a Jewish name and I'm always down for more characters who are Jews of color! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed and happy holidays!!


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